Day Care
by Haiti2013
Summary: Arthur's running late to pick up Alfred from daycare, but on the plus side, he gets to meet Francis :) However soon, this ordinary day turns into a day every parent dreads. Matthew disappears and no one can find him. Can Arthur help Francis find his son before he goes off he deep end?
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey guys~**_

_**This fic is really different then what I'm used to...**_

_**I'm not a hundred percent satisfied with it but if I don't post it now, I probably never will**_

_**I'd really like to hear what you think to see if how I am at writing this way.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

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Arthur Kirkland was running late. He impatiently glanced at his watch as the red light kept him in place. _This is fucking ridiculous! That light is never going to change! _he thought. Finally the light's hue transformed from red to green, and the Englishman sped off. He expertly dodged through traffic and was almost at his destination when the familiar sound of sirens filled the air. He quickly scanned his rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of the alternating blue and red lights emanating from the top of a cop car.

"Oh, fuck me," he muttered under his breath and he turned his wheel to pull over. Through his mirror he watched as a tall, muscular man got out of the police vehicle. He was clad in a black officer uniform, with a gold badge on his chest with the name Ludwig B. shining in the sunlight. The officer sauntered over to the Brit's car and tapped lightly on the window. Arthur rolled it down and tried to manage a smile, "Is there a problem officer?"

"License and registration," he said coolly. After receiving the documents, the cop wordlessly headed back to his car to verify them, so Arthur rolled back up his window. The Brit tapped his fingers anxiously on the wheel._ I don't have time for this,_ he thought. _I have to go._ Glancing back at the mirror, he noticed that the officer was occupied. _I could probably just leave right now. _He gently put his hand on the transmission and was in the process of shifting gears when he heard a banging on his door. The officer stared solemnly at him through the glass and Arthur smiled awkwardly as he lowered his window again.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" the cop asked sternly.

"You want facial grooming tips?" Arthur joked.

"Not from you," he remarked, glancing at the Brit's extraordinarily bushy eyebrows.

"Hilarious," Arthur scoffed.

"You were speeding," claimed the German. Arthur tried to think of a way out of this ticket, he had to, the fine would be obnoxious and money was pretty scarce right now. _What lie usually works on those cop shows?_

"Well, you see," he began. "The reason I was speeding is because my wife is pregnant and I've got to get to the hospital," He attempted pathetically. The officer casually glanced inside the car.

"There's no one else here," he noticed.

"I didn't bloody say she was in the goddamn car now did I?" Arthur snapped back. Ludwig raised his eyebrow at the Englishman's use of profanity.

"Sir, you should watch mouth and that temper, it could land you in some undesirable places."

"Whatever, can I go now?"

"Of course, right after I write you a ticket."

"Oh come on," he sighed. He decided to try a different strategy—not lying. _It's worth a shot. _"I'm late to pick up my kid, okay?"

"Ah, so the truth comes out."

"So you see my problem?"

"Yes," nodded the officer. Arthur smiled.

"But having somewhere to go, doesn't put you above the law," said the German as he continued to write the ticket.

"I wasn't even really speeding," the Brit complained.

"You were going sixty in a school zone!"

"It's not like I hit anyone," he protested.

"You got lucky, next time you might not be. So this will ensure that you don't try it again," nodded the officer. He wrote the ticket and handed it to the driver. "Have a nice day," waved the German as he headed back to his car.

"Sod off," growled Arthur, once he was out of an earshot. Then, he hurriedly drove to the daycare, parked, and jogged up to the entrance.

"You're late," snapped Miss Elizaveta Héderváry, the Hungarian nanny, as he came through the door.

"I know, I'm sorry," he tried to explain, but she waved him off.

"You're just lucky another parent called in to say he'd be late to pick up his kid, you know, something you should probably learn to do." Arthur simply nodded; he didn't want to piss off this woman anymore that he already had. Last time he did, he got smacked with a frying pan, but in her defense he could be a stubborn twat sometimes. "Alfred's in the back, I'll go get him."

"Thanks." As soon as she disappeared behind a colored door, another man came running through the door.

"Excuse me?" questioned what Arthur could only discern as a French accent. He turned to see who trying to get his attention, when his eyes landed on the most beautiful person they had ever be held. The man was slender but athletic. He wore black slacks with a cerulean collared shirt; his black tie was a bit disheveled, probably from running. He had shoulder length blond hair and eyes where a mix of several hues of blue that, together, made an electric combination. They lit up as they made contact with Arthur's eyes and the Brit did his best not to blush.

"Can I help you?" the Englishman asked.

"Have you-," the blonde man began, staring intently at Arthur's face; his expression was pensive as if he was trying to decide what to say next. "I'm sorry I can't even make up some fake question. I just wanted to say that you just have the most amazing eyes," he breathed. _Me? _Thought Arthur. _You're the one who walked in looking like a fucking supermodel, with eyes that make the heavens themselves green with envy! Who the hell do you think you are? Does that make you feel better about yourself, huh, you bloody frog? Making us muggles feel even worse about ourselves?_

"Yea, I,-don't-it's not- Thanks. My mom got them for me," he managed.

"Excuse me?" the Frenchman asked, perplexed.

"What? Did I stutter? Or were you just not listening?" Arthur asked indignantly.

"Um, you did stutter?" the blonde replied.

"Who asked you?"

"Didn't you-"

"That's right nobody! So don't go answering questions that don't exist!" The Frenchman watched for a minute before chuckling to himself. _Great job Arthur! He's already laughing at you. Ruin your chances immediately! Don't let him think you're normal or anything! I guess it's better to set it straight now, so he doesn't get a chance to leave you…_

"Ok guys, I think your dads are here," smiled Elizaveta as she came out with two young boys. They were laughing and playing with each other but once they spotted their parents they split to go greet them. Arthur attempted to regain his composure to smile at his son.

"Hey Alfred."

"Dad!" grinned Alfred, the small sandy-haired boy ran up and leaped into his father's arms. Arthur groaned. _This boy is getting big. _The Englishman noticed the other young boy walking to his father and raised his arms to be picked up. His French father grinned, showing off a ridiculously white smile, and scooped up his child. _Of course, he'd have perfectly white teeth! Who does he think he is? Walking in here looking like he belongs in a fucking commercial!_

"_Papa, Alfred m'a dit que je peux aller chez-il,_" smiled the young boy. His father raised an eyebrow.

"_Vraiment?_" he asked. Upon hearing his boy's name, Arthur looked at the other man.

"What did he say?" he questioned.

"Oh, Matthew just said that your son-Alfred?-invited him over to his house."

"It's true dad," grinned Alfred. "Matthew and me are gonna slay dragons together 'cuz we're heroes!" Arthur frowned at his son.

"You mean 'Matthew and I'," he corrected.

"No, Matthew and _me_," he insisted, pointing to himself. "You have your own friends, daddy."

"I'd be happy to set up a play date," suggested the French dad.

"Good!" the little boy smiled. "When you guys have a play date, can me and Matthew get one too?" Alfred asked bluntly.

"Son, it's 'Matthew and I'" the Englishman tried to correct again, hoping that he would forget about the whole play date ordeal.

"Dad!" the small boy whined, exasperated. "Matthew is _my _friend, okay? Stop trying to take him from me." After staring at his dad for a while to prove his point, he turned to the Frenchman. "So are you going to have a play date with my daddy or not?"

"You can't just-" Arthur began, blushing slightly.

"Of course," Frenchman replied, winking at the child, and then he turned to Arthur. "My name's Francis Bonnefoy." He placed the hand he wasn't using to carry Matthew out for Arthur to shake.

"Arthur Kirkland," he responded, taking the hand. His hand was so warm and steady, Arthur didn't really want to let go.

"_Enchante_," smiled Francis.

"Pleasure," agreed the Brit. Elizaveta, apparently forgotten, simply stood there watching the exchange. There was something about these two that she liked; so she made a mental note to keep on them. _They'd be cute together, but I have to go home, _she thought. She noticed a motorcycle pull up alongside the building and heard the cyclist honk. _Crap, I better get going._

"Ok guys, time to go," she declared. The motorcyclist rounded the building waiting for her, clearly getting a little impatient.

"Noooo," screamed Alfred, jumping from his father's arms to grab Elizaveta's leg. Matthew hopped from Francis' arms and mimicked his friend. "I don't wanna go." Arthur rolled his eyes; he'd seen this act before. Alfred wouldn't give up until he promised him some kind of reward. Usually he wouldn't give in, but he wanted to get out of there.

"Come on Alfred, I'll get you some burgers on the way home." The little boy's eyes lit up and he grinned.

"Bye, Miss Elizaveta," he smiled as he hugged her.

"Bye, little one, and I'll see you tomorrow, Matthew," she said.

"Liz?! Are you ready to go?" the voice belonged to the cyclist, who had now dismounted his bike, in an attempt to retrieve his girlfriend. He began to approach Elizaveta before he stopped short and seemed to be staring at Francis. He quickly removed his helmet to reveal spiky white hair and red eyes.

"_Mon Dieu_," laughed Francis. "Gilbert is that you?"

"No fucking way!" the albino cheered "Francis? It's been ages! How are you?"

"I've been great and life's going well. What about you?"

"Life's been awesome. I've got a great girl," he winked at Elizaveta, who blushed lightly. "My job's pretty steady and it's just all been wonderful."

"That's great to hear."

"Yea, what are you doing here anyway?" he asked glancing around the daycare. "Oh right, you have a kid. Matthew? How's he?"

"Matthew's great. He's four now, almost five."

"Five! Are you serious?"

"Yea, he's growing up so fast, _mon dieu_, where does the time go?" laughed the Frenchman.

"Is this him?" Gilbert asked, pointing at Alfred.

"No, he's right...right," Francis looked around. "Where'd he go?" The adults surveyed the area, trying to locate the missing boy-he was nowhere to be found. "I don't understand, he was just here a second ago," Francis explained.

"Alfred, did you see where Matthew went?" his father asked him.

"Who?" asked the little boy, distracted by a fire truck on the floor. He picked it up. "Daddy, can I have this?"

"Not now, son," dismissed Arthur as he continued to look for Matthew. The little boy slid down to the floor and began to scream.

"I WANT IT NOWWWW!" he yelled. Arthur tried to ignore the tantrum, but Alfred only got louder.

"Dude, control your kid," remarked Gilbert. Francis was still anxious to find Matthew but even he couldn't tune out Alfred's shrieks and couldn't help but look at the little red faced boy. Arthur couldn't be more embarrassed.

"It's okay, I got it," offered Elizaveta. _What? To show these guys even more how incompetent I am? No, he's mine. I've got this,_ Arthur thought but he didn't move from his spot. He simply watched as the nanny walked over to his child and gently calmed him down. _For someone so aggressive, she can be so normal sometimes,_ he realized.

"Do you think he's in the playroom?" asked Gilbert. Francis didn't even wait for a response; he sped past the others and entered the back room. The others followed but the Brit didn't want to leave his son alone.

"Come on, Alfred."

"I want my hamburgers," the boy said sternly, crossing his arms.

"You'll get your burgers after we find Matthew."

"No, I want them now." Why was he like this? It was like he was trying to annoy him on purpose.

"If you help me find Matthew, I'll get you two burgers and fries," he said, trying to make his offer sound amazing. The child bought it and ran after the rest of the adults into the playroom. Arthur shook his head and followed him. He had never been in the back before but the place was huge. There were quite a few doors leading to different rooms. _What the fuck is this? Narnia? This building looks so much smaller from the outside, how is this even possible?_ He stood in the main hall, looking around for where everyone else had gone. Alfred immediately jumped into a ball pit near the slide right next to him. Francis came running out of a room and searched wildly for somewhere else to look next. Arthur noticed the desperateness in his eyes, he had removed his work shoes so he could run around faster and his hair was disheveled. _But he still looks like a bloody model? I hate the French, why do they have everything so fucking easy? _The Frenchman tried to calm himself down and leaned against the wall, where he soon slid to the ground. He laid his head on his knees and just sat there. Arthur made sure Alfred was safe in the ball pin before walking over to the depressed man. He sat himself down beside him.

"Hey, we'll find him," he tried to console. Francis looked up at him and Arthur could truly see the sadness that lay behind his deep blue eyes.

"We have to find him," he said softly. The Englishman nodded and Francis took his hand for support. Again a warm sensation ran throughout his body and he just felt like everything was going to be okay. _What am I? A fucking teenager? We're in a serious situation here and all I can think about is...no, it's got to stop. I'm supposed to be consoling him, not the other way around. How would I feel if I'd lost Alfred? I have to focus, _he decided. He grabbed onto the Frenchman's hand and helped him get up.

"Let's go." The guys met up with Gilbert and Elizaveta in the painting room as they looked purposefully through some closets. When Arthur and Francis tried to help them, the German waved them off.

"It would be faster if we split up. Liz and I have got this room, you guys look somewhere else." Francis concurred and left the room with Arthur, right before they entered the a light blue room, painted with soft white clouds, most likely designated for nap time, the Brit's cell phone went off. As he picked up the phone, he signaled to Francis to go on without him.

"Hello?" he answered, a little rushed. It was his boss.

"You need the Sander's report edited by tomorrow?" he asked, almost whining. _The thing is like a thousand pages long and I haven't made a dent. What kind of dipshit would want to ruin my life like that? Oh right, this pillock._

"I don't know if that's possible sir," he tried to reason. "Maybe by Wednesday?" He removed the cell from his ear as his employer proceeded to yell into it, with some profanities that even he might have to look up later. _Real professional. _Francis came out of the room to join Arthur.

"Um, okay. I'll get it done tonight," the Brit finished, hanging up. The Frenchman looked at him with concern.

"Are you okay? You look a bit angry?" _Stop worrying about me! What's wrong with you? Worrying about other people is what gets you hurt, so let's just find your son so you can go home and I can go read and edit a thousand pages of crap._

"I'm fine," he managed to say. Francis studied him a little more.

"You can leave if you need to, hopefully we'll find him. I truly appreciate your help," he said earnestly.

"Do you not want me here?" asked Arthur, a bit offended.

"Of course not, I just thought-"

"Well, then stop thinking and let's go already," he asserted, grabbing Francis' arm and leading him to another room. They searched the room avidly, looking in closets and calling the young boy's name. With every passing moment, Francis' voice grew strained and hoarse, he moved a lot slower but he was still going. Arthur watched as this man moved from room to room, he was clearly exhausted and every time they didn't find his son, his heart seemed to shatter just a little bit more.

Sometimes they would run into Gilbert and Elizaveta, both parties a little hopeful, but only depressed more when they realized that the other group hadn't found the boy. Every couple of minutes, Arthur would run back to the ball pit to check on Alfred, mainly to check if he was okay and if he had seen Matthew. Every time the answer was the same, the boy would shake his head and mention his hamburgers. His father would assure him that the burgers would indeed arrive, but he did ask Elizaveta if he could grab a snack from the fridge so that his son wouldn't get too hungry. The last time he had gone to check, Alfred had fallen asleep on the slide so his father scooped him up and brought him to the nap room and settled him on a cot. As he walked back to Francis, he saw Gilbert checking the back door.

"It's locked," the German confirmed. Francis released a breath of relief.

"So that means he must be in here somewhere?" the Frenchman reasoned, checking some rooms again.

"Maybe when we were running around, he managed to get back in the front room or find Alfred?" Elizaveta suggested.

"He's not with Alfred," Arthur confirmed. "I just put him down for a nap." Francis turned to look at him.

"He must be exhausted," he realized. " I am so sorry for keeping you here, maybe you should-"

"I'm not going anywhere," the Englishman said sternly. "Not until I know Matthew is safe with you." Francis simply stared at him. This stranger that he had met only over hour ago. This British man who he had only thought of as a cute face, with alluring eyes but hidden by those extremely bushy eyebrows, was spending his day helping him. And who was he? Why did he deserve this? Francis didn't have time to really question the kindness of others; he really needed to find his son. So he merely whispered a quick 'merci' to Arthur.

"I think we should go check the front," stated Gilbert.

"Ok, you guys go ahead, I'm going to get Alfred," claimed Arthur. The other adults nodded and took off for the front room. As Francis looked around the front room once more, he noticed a coat closet that they may have missed before. The Frenchman surveyed the small room but since everyone was gone, there weren't many coats and it was easy to see that it was empty. Gilbert and Elizaveta were looking under the front desk and in the bathroom and Francis didn't know where to look next. That's when he saw it. The front door was open, just a little but definitely enough for a four year old to push through. As he realized this his heart sank into his stomach and the feeling dread washed over him.

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_**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review :)**_


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur headed for the nap room and woke Alfred up.

"Are we gonna go home?" the little boy yawned.

"Not yet, ya little tyke," Arthur explained, ruffling up his sons hair. "We still haven't found Matthew."

"Isn't he still playing hide-n-seek?" the boy asked a little drowsily.

"What do you mean?"

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Francis ran to the front door and searched the parking lot, calling for his son. The little boy was nowhere to be found and soon Gilbert and Elizaveta ran outside to join him.

"What are you doing?" his albino friend asked.

"I don't think Matthew could have gotten outside," the Hungarian assured him. "I make sure to leave the door closed."

"Yea, but he doesn't," the Frenchman growled at Gilbert.

"What are you even talking-" the German began until he realized. "When I came in, I didn't shut the door behind me." The albino felt like he was going to throw up. "I am so sorry Francis, that was so not awesome of me," he looked around hectically as if he was trying to come up with a plan. "We can call the police! We will find him! I promise!" Francis knew that his friend hadn't done it on purpose but that didn't stop him from hating his guts right now. The Frenchman sighed and followed the others inside. Elizaveta was calling the police from her cell when Arthur came bursting into the front room. The other three jumped at the sight of the racing Englishman as he flailed into the room. As he caught his breath he looked up at the other adults.

"I think I can find out where he is," he smiled. Without another word, the others followed him into the back until they met Alfred by the ball pit.

"Where did you say he was, son?" Arthur asked.

"We was playing hide-n-seek over here," the little boy remembered pointing at the ball pit.

"When?" asked Elizaveta.

"When you guys were running around playing tag," Alfred said.

"We weren't playing tag, we were looking for Matthew," explained Arthur.

"So was I," he explained.

"But you found him?"

"No, that was before."

"Before what?"

"Before the burgers!" he said angrily. He couldn't see why these grown ups didn't understand something so obvious. Arthur closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose with three fingers, breathed deeply and counted back from five. He had a problem with his temper and he was trying to remember the steps he learned in his classes to manage it. Francis merely looked at the boy, disheartened. He didn't know where his son was.

"I'll call the police," Gilbert whispered to him. Arthur opened his eyes and looked at them.

"The police? Why? He has to be here somewhere right?" Gilbert merely went back to the front with Elizaveta while Francis slipped back into his depressed position on the floor. The Englishman didn't understand what was going on. They were going to find this kid; they had to. He checked his watch, it was getting pretty late. It was almost Alfred's bedtime and he had that big project to work on, but he couldn't leave. He wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing he had left this man in his time of need, so he walked over the Frenchman.

"We're going to find him," he said assuredly. Francis didn't lift his head from his knees.

"I want to believe that."

"Hey," Arthur began, getting his knees so that he was face level with the depressed Frenchman. "Look at me." Francis raised his head slowly, tears sliding down his face. Arthur was a little taken aback, seeing this beautiful man cry, it made him feel terrible. He could feel his own heart shatter. "Don't give up," he said sternly.

"It's going to be dark soon," Francis said, staring out the window. "The boy's afraid of the dark and he's going to be out there, all alone," he finished, his voice cracking on the last word. "I can't...he can't...I promised..." Alfred stopped walked over to his dad and began tugging on his shirt.

"What is it, Alfred?" his dad asked.

"Why is he sad?" the little boy asked, blue eyes now focused on Francis. Arthur didn't really know how to explain the situation to his son, but as the little boy watched tears fall from the Frenchman's eyes, he didn't need to understand anymore. He slowly walked over to Francis' side and tried to wrap his little arms around him. "Don't cry," he demanded. Alfred's hug was far too much; the Frenchman got up immediately and headed to the front of the building. Arthur watched his son's bottom lip start to quiver. "Did I do something wrong?" The Brit brought his son into a tight hug, not only to console the upset child but to remind himself that he was still there. Arthur wasn't the best father, he didn't expect to be getting an award any day soon, but he loved his son with all of his heart. And seeing someone like Francis lose his whole world just made Arthur want to hold his boy tight and never let go.

"I love you, Alfred." The little boy buried his face in his father's chest.

"I love you too." There was a short pause. "Daddy?"

"Yea?"

"Is Matthew going to be okay?"

"I don't know," he replied earnestly. Alfred buried his head deeper in his father's chest and the Englishman felt his shirt getting moist.

"Hey, don't cry," he said, trying to get his son to look up at him.

"It's my fault."

"What? Why would you say that?"

"I dunno."

"Alfred, look at me," Arthur put his boy down and wiped tears from his son's eyes. "This isn't your fault. Matthew's lucky to have a friend like you. okay?" The child nodded, his lip still trembling. Arthur held on to Alfred's hand and led him to the front room, upon seeing them enter the front, Elizaveta walked up to him.

"Hey Arthur," she said softly. "Do you mind if I take Alfred to playroom? I don't think he should be around all the craziness when the police arrive."

"Um, I think we might be heading home," Arthur admitted, glancing at how tight his son was holding his hand.

"You can't...you can't leave," she said.

"Why not? The police are on their way and you guys will keep looking."

"Francis needs you."

"Me?" Arthur glanced at the Frenchman, who was staring somberly out the window. _Why would he need me? The only person who's ever needed me is Alfred and he's growing up so damn fast even that won't last..._"He doesn't need me, he needs his son."

"Well, you're all he has right now," she said sternly. Arthur stared at the Hungarian woman, but she stared right back, uninflected.

"He has you and Gilbert," he sighed.

"It's not the same and you know it."

"I'm not sure if-"

"I want to stay." Arthur looked down at his son who was staring up at the two adults.

"What did you say?" asked the Brit.

"I want to stay. I wanna find Matthew. That's what a hero would do. He saves the day. And daddy," Alfred tightened his grip and looked sternly into his dad's eyes. "I'm a hero." Elizaveta smiled at the little boy.

"So I guess it's settled?" she reasoned, looking at Arthur. He nodded.

"I guess so." Soon they saw the flashing lights of the police shine through the window and it brought Arthur back to earlier that afternoon. _God, that feels like a whole different life time, _he realized. As two cops exited the car and headed towards the building, Elizaveta took Alfred into the back. Arthur walked over to stand by Francis and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. The Frenchman didn't jump, he glanced at Arthur with huge eyes and put his hand over the Brit's. His eyes, there was just something about those eyes, that kept Arthur here. It made him feel like everything was going to alright. They gave him hope. _How does he do this to me? I met him today! This shouldn't be allowed to happen. Goddammit Arthur, what's wrong with you? This guy's kid is missing and all you can think about is how you feel? Such a twat._ The door swung open and two guys in black police uniforms entered the building. Arthur's eyes grew wide as he recognized the man who had given him a ticket earlier.

"Hey bro, thanks for coming," Gilbert said as he shook the blond German's hand.

"Of course," the cop said seriously. His partner, a tanned, green-eyed man, waved kindly at everyone.

"_Buenas noches,_ I know this isn't a good time, but may I use your bathroom really quickly, _por favor?_"

"Yea, it's right over-Antonio?" realized Gilbert. Francis perked up at the sound of the name.

"Carriedez?" the Frenchman added. The Spanish cop got a closer to the two men calling his name and his eyes grew wide in surprise.

"_Mis amigos!_ What has it been, four years?"

"Yea, this is so awesome," smiled the albino as he hugged the Spaniard.

"And you Francis," added Antonio, turning to face the Frenchman. "You're looking-" he stopped short. He'd never seen Francis look so sad. "Well?" he added so hesitantly, Arthur thought it was a question. Noticing the man's sadness, Ludwig pulled out his notepad.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" he began. Antonio nodded.

"_Si_, we should get to work. Right after I use the restroom," he said as he walked to the backroom. Ludwig rolled his eyes, his partner could be so ridiculous sometimes.

"_Mon fils a disparu,_" (My son has disappeared) Francis sighed. Arthur wanted to console him, but the thought kept him frozen. He definitely liked the man but now was not the time or place to act on that, no matter what Elizaveta said. The German looked confused at Francis' words; he clearly didn't understand French.

"Dude, his kid's gone," Gilbert translated sadly. The blonde officer nodded and scribbled some words down in the notepad.

"What's does he look like?" the man asked.

"He's four years old, almost five, with dirty blond hair and blue eyes," the Frenchman described. "He's incredibly shy but extremely caring. Just one of the sweetest boys you'll ever meet." The officer wrote some notes down sternly.

"You'll find him?" Arthur asked.

"We'll try our best," assured Ludwig, looking up from his book.

"_Merci_," Francis thanked kindly but Arthur could see the worry on his face.

"Hey guys!" yelled the Spaniard from the backroom. "Look who I found? This guy could have gotten lost back there, it's huge," he smiled as he came through the door, holding a sleeping Matthew in his arms. The young boy was grasping a toy bear tightly against his skin as he rested peacefully in the Spaniard's arms.

"Matthew!" Francis practically screamed.

"I should go tell, Liz!" realized Gilbert as he slipped into the backroom. Francis ran over to Antonio and took him from the officer's hands. The way the Frenchman held his child made everyone else feel like he would never let go. The little boy stirred in his arms. He opened his eyes drowsily to look at his father.

"Papa? _Je suis fatigue,_ can we go home?"

"Of course, _mon coeur._ Whatever you want," his father replied, caressing the small child's hair. This caused Matthew to smile as he tried to settle himself back in his dad's arms.

"I love you, daddy," the young boy mumbled into his new teddy bear.

"_Je t'aime aussi,_" Francis whispered back.

"Alright," nodded Antonio. "So why did you call us? Break-in? Robbery? Grand Theft Auto?" he asked, eyebrows raised at his partner. Ludwig simply shook his head at the oblivious Spaniard.

"Where did you find him?" asked Arthur.

"He was just wandering around when I was on my way back from the bathroom," Antonio shrugged. "Poor guy, I would have missed him too if I hadn't tripped on that bear of his." Elizaveta came rushing to the front room with Gilbert, Alfred asleep in her arms. Arthur took his son and decided that it was time they went home. _I'm going to have to make a barrel of coffee to make it through this night, _he realized. He waved goodbye to the others, ruffled Matthew's hair in his sleep and smiled at Francis.

"I told you we'd find him," he remarked. He walked out of the daycare and took in the night sky. It was pitch black save for a few street lights and a couple in the parking lot. Luckily his car was near the front so he didn't have to walk too far. He loved his son but the kid was heavy. He strapped Alfred into his car seat and shut the back door before opening the driver's door. He was about to slide into his seat when he heard someone calling him. Francis was jogging out of the building and stopped when he reached Arthur.

"Yea?" the Englishman asked inquisitively. The blonde man simply stared at him for a minute as if searching for the right words to say. In the momentary silence, Arthur couldn't help himself from glimpsing at the Frenchman's eyes again.

Those eyes that had gone through so much today: sadness, grief, anger, disparity, relief, joy.

Those eyes that Arthur couldn't bear to see hold tears.

Those eyes that sent slight chills up Arthur's spine every time they focused in on him.

Francis pulled him in for a hug. Arthur trembled slightly as the Frenchman's strong arms wrapped around him and rested his head on the Brit's shoulders. "_Mille merci, mon ami. _Thanks for everything," he whispered. Arthur tried to nod but he didn't want to move, after what felt like too soon Francis pulled away. He searched his pockets, pulled out a business card and handed it to Arthur.

"Call me sometime," he smiled. "You know, for that play date?"

"Play date?" the Brit asked, confused.

"For the children?" the Frenchman explained.

"Yea, of course," Arthur agreed. Francis waved as he headed back into the daycare and the Englishman slowly waved back. The Brit felt the business card in his hand for a moment and then put it in his wallet. _I'm going to call tomorrow,_ he decided as he slid into the driver's seat. He closed his door and checked on Alfred one last time, before starting his car and driving off into the night.

* * *

**_A/N: And that's the end of that. Please tell me what you think and thanks to all of you who reviewed, followed and favorited you guys are awesome! :)_**


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